Wry, and Awry
by ExquisitelyInked
Summary: Shiraishi feels left out. Everything falls apart.
1. Chapter 1

They get a chance to meet when their schools participate in a tournament.

Shiraishi watches as Atobe _devours _Ryoma's mouth, watches how he doesn't even have to struggle to keep him pinned against the wall of some building whose back affords them some degree of privacy.

Ryoma gasps as Atobe's hands push him up the wall a little farther. "_Monkey King,_" he pants. "Match... in five... minutes... late..."

"My match started ten minutes ago, do you really think I care that _you're _late?" Atobe hums against Ryoma's jaw. Ryoma doesn't bother replying, just keeps breathing.

Shiraishi feels like something is piercing his throat.

Is feeling 'left out' selfish of him?

He leaves, unprepared for the wave of emotion overtaking him.

They don't notice until Ryoma stops biting Keigo's lips and says, "I want to kiss Kuranosuke, too." But then he's not there. Ryoma and Atobe glance at each other once. Something is hollowing them out from the inside. They hold each other's fingers; Ryoma looks at the ground, says, "Wish me luck."

Atobe wishes him luck with a quick swipe of his tongue against Ryoma's red lips, and they neglect to mention Shiraishi's absence.

* * *

"Why did you leave yesterday?"

"My team needed me." Lies.

"Kuranosuke, we -"

"Anyway, you were too busy drowning in each other, I didn't want to be privy to something so intimate."

His tongue is exponentially increasing its toxicity. Shiraishi tries saying sorry. It doesn't work on Atobe, whose lips are merely a line. Ryoma's eyes run over all of Shiraishi's visible skin, and he says, "Fuck me if you're so sorry, then."

Shiraishi tries. Ryoma reaches for Keigo after the first five minutes. See? Fucking see? Case in fucking point.

Why'd they even pull him into their relationship if they were going to push him out?

He's enough of a coward to remain passive-aggressive like this. He stops taking his clothes off anywhere except the bathroom. That does not stop Keigo from pushing him up against a wall and breathing into his skin the words that time would never give him.

_All of us are busy, and we might not get time for each other, but we mustn't really exclude anyone, right?_

Shiraishi totally gets it. It's Atobe's way of telling him not to be an attention-whore, but look, it's the pot calling the kettle black. How nicely ironic. Shiraishi breathes his own words into Atobe's hands.

_If I act like this, it's because you're leaving me out and I avoid confrontations._

Atobe stops leaving kisses along Shiraishi's jaw and leaves hickeys instead, which hurt for days and turn purple and yellow before fading. Marks of possession? Shiraishi doesn't know. Shiraishi doesn't give a fuck.

* * *

When he's asleep in another room at night, sometimes Ryoma crawls in beside him and slings his arm around his own shoulders. "Love you. Love you," he mutters, over and over, trying to wake him up. Shiraishi never opens his eyes.

Atobe does it too, sometimes, invading Shiraishi's privacy at night. His attempts to wake Kuranosuke up are less subtle; blowjobs certainly do the trick, and Shiraishi's body hates his mind, and the moans wake Ryoma up, who slinks into the room and tries to swallow all the sounds Shiraishi makes.

Keigo, afterward, makes sure to put on Kuranosuke's shirt instead of his own. Every time. Always. "I'm happy with you," Keigo softly mumbles into Shiraishi's ear, because Shiraishi's always been one to stay awake after any semblance of sex, so he'll hear. Keigo hears a voice whispering back to him, "If only you'd show it more often."

* * *

"You know what you need to do? You need to fuck off."

Shiraishi's done with this. "Oh, fuck you, Keigo, the fuck do you think you are? Shouldn't have fucking made me fall for both of you when all you were going to do was fuck around and go on dates and kiss and do other sappy shit just with each other, okay? I really had no interest in learning the dynamics of being a third wheel."

Keigo isn't really stunned into silence. "Kuranosuke, I told you months ago that you needed to stop demanding so much of us, you needed to stop thinking we were excluding you from everything."

"And I replied months ago that it wasn't me thinking; it was me knowing."

"You selfish bastard!" In fury, Atobe swipes a hand across a table laden with glass and gold trophies. Shiraishi watches them fall and break. He falls and breaks himself.

Ryoma comes home from Seigaku tennis practice to find Keigo and Shiraishi kissing _violently, destructively _amidst the ruins of past achievement, glass shards and gold sparkling as their very own battlefield. Their hands are lost somewhere in their jeans - Ryoma has no doubt where.

They haven't really noticed him, because Shiraishi pulls away from Keigo's bruised lips (Keigo's teeth shift to Kuranosuke's jaw) and says, "You and Ryoma love each other more than either of you love me, and you can't tell me it's not true," and this sentence makes Keigo stop biting the corner of Shiraishi's jaw and his arms stop moving, and tears start falling from his eyes, fast. Ryoma's never seen Keigo cry like this.

"You... fucking... bastard." Keigo stops breathing heavily.

Shiraishi isn't crying. His hands haven't stopped whatever they're doing in Keigo's pants. His lips begin to kiss Keigo's neck.

Ryoma walks back out. They still don't notice, as Keigo comes with a moan that suspiciously sounds like a sob.

* * *

So Ryoma's never really held someone's face and shoved his cock into their mouth, but he tries to do it with Shiraishi; Shiraishi lets him do it. Looks up at him expressionlessly, as his mouth is abused by Ryoma's cock.

Ryoma comes in Shiraishi's mouth and Shiraishi spits the come out. Ryoma rides him afterward; they don't kiss.

* * *

Shiraishi can hear Keigo and Ryoma fucking in the adjacent room. He jacks off to their moans with tears in his eyes.

* * *

Keigo takes the packed bags from Shiraishi's hands and throws them back into his room. Kuranosuke's had it, really, with them and their games, shouldn't they at least have the decency to let him leave?

Ryoma unzips the bags and puts all the clothes back.

They sleep in one bed, making sure to put Shiraishi between them (the three have never been lonelier).

Shiraishi tries to leave, again, the next morning. Atobe makes him coffee. Ryoma slides into his lap and feeds him the coffee, straight from his mouth.

"Please don't go," Atobe whispers.

"Please don't go," Ryoma echoes.

Shiraishi loses it. His arms wind around Ryoma's body and pull him closer - when did it become so frail and lean? - and his mouth finds Ryoma's lips for a proper, _proper _kiss, the first time in months of alienation and unfamiliarity.

Then Kuranosuke remembers that Ryoma likes messy kisses with a lot of dirty licking. So he kisses Ryoma messily, with a lot of dirty licking. Ryoma starts crying.

Atobe takes a seat beside them, sipping his beverage. Shiraishi finds Atobe's free hand, and grasps it so tightly Atobe can't feel it anymore. Keigo leans his head on one of Kuranosuke's shoulders while Ryoma sobs into the other.

* * *

It's still fucked up.

* * *

It's still so fucked up.

* * *

Things get better, and then they get worse.

* * *

Atobe and Ryoma have barely looked at him in the past few days, too busy laughing and talking about the anniversary of the two of them meeting (they have a separate one for them and Shiraishi getting together). _Barely looking _might be a bit of an overstatement, but Shiraishi can't help his feelings of jealousy and insecurity and pain and _pain._

_They don't mean to do it. They don't mean to do it. They don't mean to do it._

* * *

And then he comes across Tezuka Kunimitsu - the person who makes Shiraishi _scream_.


	2. Chapter 2

Kunimitsu's kisses drown Kuranosuke in fire, drench him in heat, that make him shudder and rake his nails down Kunimitsu's back. He doesn't even remember how they began this.

Except that it began at a bookstore.

A fucking bookstore.

"I didn't know you worked here, Tezuka-kun," Shiraishi says, pushing his book across the counter so that Tezuka can scan the barcode on the back cover.

"I need the money for some extra tennis rackets that I'm going to buy, and I don't really like relying on my parents for everything," Tezuka answers. He looks strange in the bookshop uniform. Shiraishi's used to seeing him in Seigaku colours.

"You look weird in this uniform."

"So I've been told." Tezuka offers him a half-smile along with a receipt, and his book in a small bag.

"You look weird when you smile."

Tezuka looks at him properly, then. "You look weird with the bandages on your arm."

"You look weird in general."

"You too."

Shiraishi laughs. Tezuka smiles.

Him smiling actually isn't weird at all.

He really, really doesn't remember how they end up trying to get each other off behind the shop. Maybe Shiraishi hit on Tezuka. Maybe Tezuka hit on Shiraishi. Maybe Shiraishi's just looking for a quick fuck to get over his abandonment issues. In the end, they drag each other to the place.

"I didn't know you were so immoral, Tezuka, doing this at your workplace?" Shiraishi drawls. Tezuka pins him against the wall, and with one hand, pushes back the silver-brown hair hanging over his eyes to stare at him. Shiraishi almost goes numb with the arousal that courses through him. He wants - he fucking wants - to -

"I haven't done these kinds of things with anyone, anywhere, ever before. You're the first. Celebrate the corruption of my morality."

Shiraishi doesn't hesitate to kiss him when he hears that.

Tezuka kisses like he's trying to inhale everything that makes Shiraishi who he is and Shiraishi just wants to get their clothes off and _get the fucking clothes off _and oh _god Tezuka _-

Shiraishi turns them around so it's Tezuka with his back to the wall, and sinks to his knees.

"What? Why are you - " Tezuka begins the question, when Kuranosuke, with shaky, impatient hands unbuttons his trousers and shuts Tezuka up, pulls the waistband of his boxers down and takes him into his mouth -

Tezuka moans, probably for the first time in his life, and Shiraishi can't hold himself back; he undoes his pants - _no underwear _- and grasps his cock and begins to stroke -

incoherence is bliss? ignorance - no, incoherence, what -

Shiraishi can only feel his hands on his cock, going up, going down, thumb rubbing the slit on the head, and Tezuka fucking his mouth. Shiraishi doesn't choke, even when Tezuka hits the back of his throat, oh god, fuck his mouth forever, make him feel like this forever, don't bring him down from this high -

Tezuka comes, and slides down the wall to sit with his legs on either side of Shiraishi, after shakily pulling his trousers and boxers back up.

Shiraishi swallows it, and doesn't let his hands stop, no, never, just -

Tezuka reaches for the glasses he threw away some time ago, but decides to kiss Shiraishi instead.

The feeling of his fellow captain's lips on his is so different from the way Keigo's lips feel, or Ryoma's -

Shiraishi pulls away from Tezuka and freezes.

Fuck.

What the fuck is he doing? Revenge sex? _What the fuck, revenge sex, Kuranosuke, you asshole_

Get the _fuck_ out of here.

But before he can do it, Tezuka knocks away Shiraishi's hands, replaces them with his own, and covers Kuranosuke's mouth with his own once more.

They're insistent kisses, insistent strokes, that try to push Keigo and Ryoma out of his mind, but Shiraishi can't do it, no matter how much he wants to, he can't forget the way Ryoma says 'I love you' or the way Keigo holds his face first thing in the morning, it's what he always does, wakes up and automatically reaches for Kuranosuke, bites Kuranosuke's lips, _good morning,_ _darling, coffee or tea?_

Tezuka tastes salt on his lips and realizes Shiraishi is crying.

* * *

"What are you doing in Tokyo, anyway?" Tezuka asks, breaking the suffocating, awkward silence.

"I… live here now."

"Oh. Alone?"

"No, with two other people."

"Ah." Tezuka doesn't inquire further. But Shiraishi impulsively tells him, "My boyfriends. Keigo. Ryoma."

Tezuka starts coughing, startled at the news. _Startled._ Shiraishi wants to rub his back to ease the cough, but can't bring himself to touch Tezuka anymore. The wall of the shop is hard against his back. It hadn't felt so hard ten minutes ago.

"So, I… made you cheat," Tezuka says slowly. Shiraishi says, "I take the blame. You didn't know. I did. I knew. I _knew._"

Tezuka is silent.

They sit like that.

For a minute. For five minutes. For ten. Twenty.

Eventually, the sun begins to set.

"This… never happened," Shiraishi says, getting up.

"It didn't." Tezuka gets up as well.

Shiraishi leaves without another word after getting his book from inside the store.

* * *

"Where were you the entire day?"

Shiraishi steps back, out of Ryoma's embrace, afraid that he can smell the scent of sex on him, that he can see bite marks on his red lips. "I just wanted to buy a book, but instead ended up spending the entire day at the bookstore."

Ryoma pauses. "Oh. Also, you stink of sweat, go take a shower, Kanpeki."

Sweat. Okay. Okay. He can breathe.

"Yeah, going there right now. Fuck this summer heat."

Ryoma hums in agreement, going back to his textbooks.

_Kanpeki. _He calls you _perfection _every morning, afternoon, evening what the fuck have you done Shiraishi what the fuck did you do what the fuck have you done you've fucked it up fucking die you've ruined

every

thing

_what will you tell them when they find out_

* * *

Keigo finds him three minutes later in the shower, wrapping his arms around him and clinging to him, whispering his name in his ear.

Shiraishi tries to pretend the water running down is face is from the shower and not his eyes, but Keigo's Insight is a very inconvenient thing sometimes.

So Atobe just kisses him. They keep kissing in the shower until their skin turns wrinkly and the hot water runs out.

He doesn't ask why Shiraishi was crying. Shiraishi doesn't tell him.

* * *

The guilt weighs him down. Not like a rock on his back or an anchor drowning him. It makes every cell of his body feel heavier. It burns away the light hair on his arms and legs. It cracks his joints. The arm with the gauntlet seems impossible to lift now.

He does it, because he's got inhuman strength, and because he's a fuck-up.

* * *

He goes to the bookstore the next day, too.

Tezuka is still there.

They make light talk, ignoring the fact that Shiraishi was sucking Tezuka's dick yesterday.

Small, insignificant words that end up disintegrating in the crushing tension in the air. Colours. Bleeding into everything. Black is white. Green is orange. Blue is still fucking blue. This fucking guilt isn't letting Shiraishi see straight. There better not be any tennis tournaments coming up, he'll lose and die he deserves to die he -

He ends up staying till Tezuka closes down the shop. Then, because Tezuka's a considerate shit who asks if he's still sane, Shiraishi follows Tezuka home to his apartment. Tezuka lives alone now, apparently. Moved out in search of independence.

Tezuka's strong arms hold him close when the door shuts behind them.

Shiraishi forgets he also has a home to go to.

* * *

"Are you sure th-that you're a virgin? I mean - _ah _- _Tezuka, oh god, harder, fuck me fast, fuck me hard, make me never forget -_"

Tezuka's eyes burn him, an inch away. "Yeah - yes. Yes."

Shiraishi spreads his legs wider, raises his hips higher, and _screams_ as Tezuka slams into him, still holding him close, like a lover, like two he's abandoned at home. "Again. Again. There. _Ohh._"

Surely, Tezuka's back must be bleeding by now. Shiraishi's fingernails are red.

"Are you sure?"

"What?"

"That you've never had sex with anyone?"

Tezuka stops. Shiraishi immediately regrets asking the question, moving himself to get Tezuka to move. Don't fucking stop moving.

"Yes. You're the first. Are we celebrating the corruption of my innocence yet?"

"Fuck you," Shiraishi half-moans, half-smirks, pushing Tezuka off him, out of him, pushing him down and getting on top of him.

"Celebrate," he adds.

Agonizingly slow, he slides down.

Tezuka's pupils are blown.

"Buchou - " Shiraishi gasps, calling out to him. "_Buchou._"

"Shiraishi," he calls back brokenly, hands searing Kuranosuke's hips.

Shiraishi doesn't go home that night.

He realizes Atobe and Ryoma don't even know he's not home, when in the morning, his phone has nothing new to tell him, when his voicemails are all over five weeks old.

"Have they called?" Tezuka's sleepy voice sounds strange, unfamiliar. He's used to _good morning, darling, coffee or tea? _And there are no lips biting his today.

"No. It's their anniversary. They don't fucking care."

* * *

Except that they go stock-still when Shiraishi comes home, looking utterly wrecked.

Not sex-wrecked. Shiraishi took a shower before going home. Availed himself of Tezuka's laundry service.

Wrecked as in _I was gone the whole night and you didn't even fucking notice._

"Happy anniversary, royals," he murmurs bitterly, right in their stunned faces. "How many years? Ten? Oh, fucking amazing. I'll be out the whole day, so you get the time and space to fuck in every room in this gigantic house. Celebrate!" And then he laughs, because he remembers Tezuka's words, kissed into his skin.

He saunters off, looking for his tennis uniform and rackets.

He's still the fuck-up in the picture.

* * *

Tezuka calls in sick to the bookstore, and they go to the street tennis courts and defeat everyone with minimal effort.

Shiraishi strokes his racket fondly. No need for Perfect Tennis today. No need for anything _except _tennis today.

Tezuka takes him to a court near a train station.

The first serve sends thrills through Shiraishi's body. The second draws him in. By the third, they're both playing all out, and Shiraishi has _missed_ this feeling of exhilaration.

They keep hitting the ball to each other till it's five in the evening and Atobe's voice interrupts Shiraishi's laugh.

"Hey."

The ball blows past Shiraishi. Atobe doesn't catch it, too sick of the drama associated with it. He just stands there, waiting for Shiraishi to turn so they can go home.

Home.

"What do you want?" Shiraishi asks. "I'm busy."

"Let's go home."

"How was your day, _honey_?"

"It was fine. Except Ryoma cried himself to sleep and I lost the ring I wanted to give you."

"What ring?"

"At least fucking turn around."

Shiraishi turns around. Atobe notices his opponent then. "Oh, hello, Tezuka, it's been a while."

"Good to see you," Tezuka answers carefully.

Atobe nods once, before grabbing Shiraishi's hand. "I'm taking him, now, sorry. Match postponed due to a fucking thunderstorm."

Shiraishi slips his hand out of Atobe's, who promptly grasps it again, and pushes a platinum ring into his palm.

* * *

They don't go home yet. Atobe drags him into an alleyway that seems too unclean for him, but he obviously doesn't care as he says, "So where the fuck _were _you yesterday night?"

"Having sex with Tezuka. It was amazing. I loved it. He was so good."

"Oh, don't fuck with me," Atobe says disparagingly.

Shiraishi smiles at him. "I'm Shiraishi Kuranosuke, and I'm the third wheel in the relationship I was dragged into. However, I'm too deeply in love with the two assholes who brought me in to get back out."

* * *

Groans. Keening sighs. Filthy sounds that make them both shiver.

Keigo rarely spreads his legs for anyone, and when he does, it's only for Shiraishi. Only. Ryoma watches. It's addictive. Showing off and being showed off to.

But no one's watching this evening, as Shiraishi fucks Keigo into the wall.

"Do it harder, Kanpeki, or have you lost your touch?" Keigo sneaks in a coherent insult every now and then, only to be silenced by a particularly deep thrust or a hard bite.

Shiraishi is presented with Atobe's back, and he does not hold himself in check.

Keigo's loud today. It's - it's like they're doing more debauched things than they are. Or maybe they _are_. In their minds, they're a lot more wild, growling, freer than this world will let them be -

_oh, god._

Shiraishi comes before he can pull out. Keigo moans. "I love you," he keens. He loves it. He fucking loves the feeling of being filled like that. Shiraishi jacks him off slow, hard, hot, and it doesn't take too long for Keigo to come, too.

Shiraishi drops to his knees behind Atobe, going to lick it out, Keigo really does love it, though, loves how a tongue feels back there, but Shiraishi is stopped today. "Let it stay. We'll wash ourselves when we get back," Keigo says, pulling his boxers back up, buttoning his trousers.

Shiraishi is surprised, but doesn't press for reasons. He does the same, making sure Atobe's still pushed against the wall with his body. Atobe mutters a half-hearted 'hey, let me move' but otherwise doesn't struggle.

They finish making themselves presentable, and walk the entire way home.

As they enter the house, Atobe says, "Wait. I forgot something."

And then he extends his hands to cup Kuranosuke's face, leans in to bite his lips, and whispers, "Good morning, darling. Coffee or tea?"

He smiles at him, a smile that's loving and caring, a smile that makes his beauty spot even more beautiful, and adds, "You're the most important person for the both of us. I love you so much. I'm so sorry I've been a jackass. This anniversary's pointless, it leaves you out, and we love you too much."

Shiraishi smiles back. Maybe things will get better.

He collapses on top of the first sofa he sees, and falls asleep. He wakes up next morning between Keigo and Ryoma, and only pulls them closer before falling asleep again.

Who the fuck is he even kidding.


	3. Chapter 3

Ryoma enters Shiraishi's room without knocking. He's sprawled out on the bed, reading some book. It's about tennis. Probably.

"Hey."

"Good afternoon, Ryo."

Oh, right, it's two-thirty in the afternoon, and Ryoma is about to die in three minutes.

He climbs atop the bed, straddles Kuranosuke (the book _is _about tennis).

Kuranosuke rolls his hips a little. Ryoma laughs breathily, and pulls off his cap. Shiraishi helps him pull off the shirt. Helps him pull off his own. Ryoma thinks Shiraishi looks fragile when he's not wearing anything to cover his beating heart. He grinds down, and Shiraishi gasps. His hands create wrinkles in the sheet.

"Why so suddenly?"

"Maybe I just want to fuck my boyfriend."

"Maybe your boyfriend'll fuck you."

"Either way, I get what I want."

"You always do, don't you, brat?"

Ryoma smirks. "Of course."

Afternoons boil. They take off whatever clothes were left on their bodies. "I love you."

"You say it so casually."

Ryoma throws away both their shorts, looking straight at him, and sits between Shiraishi's legs, pushing his knees up. He hums. "I only say it when I mean it."

Shiraishi slides forward. Ryoma slides forward, too.

"I love you, too," Shiraishi says, as skin meets skin and sparks erupt, igniting wildfires and lightning crashes through their isolated world, fucking everything up. But everything is already fucked up.

Ryoma's hands settle on Shiraishi's hips. Shiraishi winces slightly. It hurts, where Ryoma's touching him.

Movement stills. Ryoma's eyes widen, looking down. Shiraishi doesn't know why, until he knows.

Yellow bruises in the shape of hands. Shiraishi's pale skin does him no favours.

Atobe's hands are larger than the marks left on his hips. Ryoma's hands are smaller. They don't fit in those handprints, leaving so much room. Ryoma's not a dumb child. He likes pretending he's one, but he isn't. He isn't.

Shiraishi covers his eyes with a forearm.

Ryoma asks, "What is this?"

Shiraishi takes a while to answer. "Someone fucked me hard enough that the bruises stayed for two days."

"Who did this?"

"I don't know."

"Kanpeki - "

"Your captain."

Because he never did hide it. He even told Keigo outrightly, the day before. He was never going to hide it. He is too honest a person for that, too cruel, he's a fuck-up and now things are going to be fucked up more than usual and maybe they'll finally kick him out and let him pack his bags and maybe they'll say _fuck you _with big smiles as they wave goodbye to his retreating back and oh. They're both about to cry.

"Why?"

"Humans are social animals." Shiraishi can't bring himself to give proper answers. Ryoma deserves them. But he can't do it.

"So?"

"Loneliness is often the deciding factor in this kind of thing."

"Fuck you," Ryoma spits.

So he says it. He's waiting for the goodbye wave now.

"Why?" Ryoma asks again. Denial? Shiraishi doesn't think he's accepted the truth.

"Because."

"Because what?"

Very, very quickly, things are becoming unfamiliar. Fuck. Shiraishi you fuck everything up go fucking take a hike and fucking die go bleed out in the bath and cry about what you've done and look at how the colours are flowing into each other again - blue is still fucking blue - and guilt wracks him, hard enough to pull Ryoma down, close to him, hold his thin body so close there's no space for air to breathe, Shiraishi says 'I love you still so much so much' but Ryoma starts screaming -

Keigo bursts into the room a second later to see Ryoma on the floor, broken, broken while Shiraishi watches, shattered in his own way -

"He slept with Buchou!" Ryoma screams at Keigo. "He got fucked by him the night he wasn't home, Buchou fucked him, look at him, _look at him -_ "

Keigo turns a wild, disbelieving gaze upon Kuranosuke. And then the marks on his body.

"No," he says. "No. I did those. I made them, the last time we did it."

Shiraishi mutely stares at his bandaged arm. The last time Keigo fucked Kuranosuke into the bed was three weeks ago. They both know that. At least one of them's been counting. Probably only Shiraishi. Atobe was definitely too busy to care.

"I thought you were joking," Atobe says weakly. "Yesterday."

_Having sex with Tezuka. It was amazing. I loved it. He was so good._

"Maybe I wasn't," Shiraishi replies.

Keigo falls to the floor, crawls over to Ryoma, pulls him up into a tight embrace that has no place for Shiraishi anymore.

* * *

Fucking hotel rooms.

He's going back to Osaka in three days.

Remote captaincy was fun while it lasted. Maybe Kin-chan and his brash behaviour will take up the time and space left vacant by the two people he's left, the two people he betrayed, and Koishikawa will tell him about the times people've ignored him since Shitenhouji's captain left, and Koharu and Yuuji will cry over his 'hotness' while Kenya and Hikaru argue about insignificant things and now he'll have more time to think about ridiculous ways to walk into the school -

He chokes on his tears and wishes he could die.

Why was he so insecure, why did he have to, why, why

* * *

Tezuka finds him in front of the bookstore in the evening, standing there with dark circles and bags under his eyes and trembling hands. "They found out," Tezuka says, not questioning.

"They found out."

"And?"

"I'm going back to Osaka in a few days."

Tezuka pulls him into a hug. Shiraishi goes limp.

"You can stay with me."

"No."

"You can live with me, I don't mind, I'm not doing this out of pity, we could do this - "

"No."

"Shiraishi - "

"I don't even love you."

"That doesn't mean you can't stay with me."

"It does mean I can't."

"Why?"

"I won't do this to them."

Tezuka's arms tighten around Shiraishi.

"I won't - Ryoma _cried _and Keigo cried and both were so - they - I did this, I - should leave and never come back - "

"They left you out. They didn't involve you. They didn't fucking care. They brought you in but pushed you back. You told me yourself."

"Tezuka - "

Tezuka kisses him then, lips closing over Shiraishi's mouth, tongue sliding past his lips but this time there's no fire, just a lingering sense of desperation.

Shiraishi kisses back because that's all there's left, no one's going to touch him again, no one's going to push fingers into him the way Keigo did, just to _tease_ him, make him _beg_, no one's going to wake him up and give him _coffee or tea_ and he won't _let _anyone else touch him, ever again -

Goodbye.

* * *

He's welcomed back in the most hilarious ways. His school doesn't let him down. They begin preparation for the next tournament.

Everything's steady. Everything's fine.

* * *

Very rarely does he go to Tokyo, and even more rarely he bumps into Keigo or Ryoma.

Whenever he does, it's courteous. Their meeting. An incline of the head and avoidance of breathing the same air for more than three seconds.

Shiraishi finds it hard to believe _they _happened. He's sure Keigo and Ryoma are still together. They have to be. They loved each other first, they'll love each other last. He's still the third wheel, even in their break-up.

It's only him inclining his head, though. Atobe doesn't even move. His eyes flick over to Shiraishi once, then his gaze slides away as if he sees nothing. Ryoma sees him, gives him his everyday mada-mada-da-ne glance and walks away.

It's okay.

It's okay.

He deserves it. You fucking deserve it you're a piece of shit, _Kanpeki, _you bastard you cheat you insecure passive-aggressive fuck.

He's in stasis. Nothing feels real anymore. He doesn't believe Keigo and Ryoma really loved him. He doesn't believe he was around them, that he wanted to lick his own come out of Keigo's hole, that Keigo loved him enough to say no.

Shiraishi and Tezuka don't fuck anymore. Instead they meet at cafés and talk about the big fuck-up that life is. Rainbows and sunshine. Tennis. Cheating lying boyfriends getting the 'best' of two worlds.

They're not dating.

They're never going to date.

They're never going to fall in love.

Tezuka will never fall for him, and he will never fall for Tezuka. Friends without the benefits.

Except one time, Shiraishi's too drunk to talk about anything except the way Keigo talked about girls ("they know I'm gayyy, they still wanna get in my wayyy, Tezuka, he said that, he really really said that") or the way Ryoma laughed when Shiraishi tickled him ("he's so precious he's such a bratty little shit he's - oh god Kunimitsu you're lucky, you see him every day, you see him I can't I can't touch him I can't sneak peeks at his collarbones have you seen them Tezuka, he's perfect, and Keigo's perfect, and I'm such an asshole").

So Tezuka ends up giving him at least three blowjobs at three different places (bar restroom, Shiraishi's hotel bedroom, his own apartment bedroom) and does some more and Shiraishi wakes up fully naked with a horrible hangover next to half-naked Tezuka. Maybe they didn't really do anything. Maybe they did. Shiraishi remembers how Tezuka's tongue felt on his cock. And in his hole. At least they didn't fuck. Or maybe they did. Shiraishi's ass hurts. Tezuka's ass will probably hurt more once he wakes up, because he recollects spreading Tezuka's legs with the filthiest words he could say.

He goes to the balcony, grabbing his shirt from the floor.

He looks over the railing. Tezuka lives too close to the sky.

Shiraishi stares at the roads, twisting and winding. He really wants to play tennis. He wants to take off his gauntlet and play. He wants to play those stupid two-against-one matches he used to have with Keigo and Ryoma. Ryoma versus the two of them, on par with each, getting on par with both at once.

Keigo was so proud, and so in love with the two of them. Now it's just one. Two's company, three's a crowd.

Shiraishi mailed the platinum ring to him a week ago. A bit too precious to go by daily post in a plain white envelope, but he doesn't give a fuck. Neither does Atobe, because he gets it back in a new envelope with the words _keep it, I don't want it back, he doesn't want it back _written just beside the address and below the stamp.

He leans over the railing. A bit too far.

But he's too brave to jump.


	4. Chapter 4

They wish they were stupid.

They wish their eyes were always closed, all the time.

They sit on the floor, silent, knees close to their chests, for a long while after Shiraishi packs his bags and slams the door behind him.

How do you decide who's to blame? How do you point at someone and say _all because of you, you asshole, you ruined us, you ruined me_? Does everyone share the blame? _Fifty percent goes to you, Shiraishi, we'll divide the rest._

"He... had sex with Buchou."

Atobe sighs. "Yeah, Ryoma. I know."

"Weren't we enough?"

Keigo thinks Ryoma should stop asking questions. "Who knows."

But Ryoma looks destroyed. Keigo takes his hand and kisses the tips of his fingers. "He still loves us."

"Why would he fuck Buchou, then?"

"Sometimes people are insecure, and they think they're unwanted, or they have terribly low self-esteem that makes them want to leave, and I'm not a psychologist, I don't have the answers, don't ask me, I'm just as shocked as you, Ryoma, so stop."

"He said something like that when I asked him."

"What?"

"He said he was lonely."

Atobe looks sideways at Ryoma. The tears have stopped flowing. The shine in his eyes is still there. His arms are wrapped around his knees. He's not going to fall apart. Hopefully.

"Maybe he was," Keigo says quietly. "He and I used to fight a lot over how he always felt excluded from everything."

"All the dates we went on without him."

"The nights we had sex without him."

"How do I blame him?" Ryoma asks Keigo. His voice cracks at the end. Those golden eyes are shimmering again. Keigo wants to go back in time.

"He... he shouldn't have cheated. He should have just... said it. Conflict resolution."

Atobe really isn't a psychologist. Ryoma, stop, please, please stop.

"This was a terrible idea. You, me, and him."

"Don't condense what we had into an _idea._" Surely they were more than that.

Ryoma starts to cry again. "I love him, and I love you, and I don't want to make him feel like that, can't I go bring him back, where's he going to live, where's he going to go when he thinks there's no one who loves him, I want him, Keigo - "

Atobe kisses Ryoma on the mouth, once. "I love him, too."

Ryoma nods once. "Did you give him the ring?"

Atobe doesn't say anything. Ryoma gets it.

He gets up, shifts so that he's in front of Keigo, and grabs Keigo's knees, pulling them apart. Then he sits back down between Keigo's legs.

It's remniscient of how Ryoma spread Shiraishi's legs that afternoon. He still isn't wearing any clothes. Keigo's eyes run over all the skin he's showing. His heart is too heavy to want to do anything except sleep.

When Ryoma brings his fingers to Keigo's mouth, Keigo takes them in, licks them, sucks on them, lightly bites them, with his eyes closed.

"Open them, Keigo."

So his eyes reopen.

Ryoma drags his wet fingers along his cock. It's not hard. Atobe extends an arm, closes his fingers around it, and starts stroking. Ryoma gasps. His hand goes between his legs, up to his hole. Atobe can't stop staring. He can't stop staring. He remembers how Shiraishi was like with Ryoma, rough, gentle, loving, harsh. He remembers how Shiraishi's mouth felt like around his dick, he remembers Shiraishi.

How unfair this is. The three of them merely memories now, when hours before they were untouchable.

Atobe tilts his head back, and sighs. His hand doesn't stop moving. Ryoma leans forwards and mumbles his name.

Keigo whispers Ryoma's name back to him.

They gaze at each other until Ryoma comes, and for a bit after that.

* * *

"He sent the ring back," Atobe says, entering the house. The living room seems emptier than usual. The dead room. Ryoma gets out of his chair and kisses him once, and then laughs in disbelief. "Are you fucking serious?"

He looks at the white envelope in Atobe's hand. His laughter dies out. "Are you fucking serious?" he repeats quietly.

He goes to Atobe's room, it's filled with stationery and other useless things because Keigo never sleeps in there, it's always in either Ryoma's room or Shiraishi's or all three in one room -

He always sleeps in Ryoma's room.

He takes a new envelope, and a marker.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving it back. Where have you kept the stamps?" Ryoma asks, taking the ring out of the old envelope, and putting it in the new. He copies down the return address. It's a hotel, an hour away from their house.

Atobe gets a stamp. Ryoma doesn't care about the denomination. He pastes it on the envelope and writes beside the address, _keep it, I don't want it back, he doesn't want it back._

"Harsh," Atobe comments. Ryoma laughs dryly, again. "Post it tomorrow morning."

They play tennis after that, till it's night. Atobe cooks dinner. It's delicious.

At night, they run their hands over each other's bodies, not going beyond that. Feeling someone else's pulsing heart beneath your palm is comforting. It partly fills voids.

* * *

Physics genius Atobe won't help him with his homework, and won't accept stripteases as payment. Ryoma's frustrated. Sometimes his days just _don't go well._

"You're an asshole, you should know that."

"This asshole also knows the difference between electric field and potential gradient in electrostatics."

"There isn't any difference."

"Then why are you having problems with your homework?"

Ryoma throws his pen at Atobe.

Keigo's lazy laughter resonates throughout the house.

It's peaceful.

They try not to talk or think about Kanpeki as much as possible. Atobe tries. Ryoma tries just as hard.

But sometimes when Keigo is slowly, _slowly _thrusting into him, taking his time, whispering dirty things to him, he thinks about how Shiraishi would be fucking him, too, along with Keigo, both of them in him, and Ryoma would be _dying _because _this - this feeling -_

He knows Atobe thinks about it, too, because both of them say Kanpeki's name to each other, and this hurts the most.

* * *

Ryoma can talk normally to Tezuka. He really isn't as immature as he comes off.

Tezuka also pretends like he wasn't the one who broke them apart, and things go on as usual. Except Ryoma won't look up to Tezuka anymore, he won't admire him or his drop shots or his ability to keep a cool head. He's just another ordinary person. So he'll talk to him ordinarily. And drop all pretences. "So do you still fuck Kuranosuke or were you satisfied when he left us?"

Tezuka looks at him. Ryoma deliberately picked the worst time to ask this question. Right in the middle of practice. With Fuji Syuusuke standing beside him.

"I don't fuck him."

Ryoma smirks. "Home-wrecker."

"He makes love to me. Get back on the courts."

Ryoma's face contorts - shock, fury, pain - and he says, "Don't you fucking touch him, _Buchou. _Don't you ever touch him again."

Tezuka stares straight ahead, saying nothing. Fuji can't quite believe his ears.

Ryoma stalks off, and Fuji asks, "What was that about?"

"Nothing."

Tezuka wonders how he'll manage the team with the rebellious first-year.

Of course they don't fuck. Even that one time was a mistake. They're barely friends. They're barely anything. Drinking buddies. They sometimes sleep in the same bed because Shiraishi can't handle being alone when he comes to Tokyo. Tezuka is the big spoon. No clothes off. No mention of sex. Nothing.

If Tezuka ever feels regret, this is it. This is why.

He doesn't know who's more to blame.

Shiraishi was the one who seduced him first. Tezuka was the one who brought him to his apartment first.

He can't count the number of times Kuranosuke talks about the two of them, like they're a memory, like the past, when obviously they're still _his_ present.

And they'll be his future.

He hands over the practice overseeing responsibility to Oishi, and leaves. Maybe Hyotei's practice is still going on.


	5. Chapter 5

Tezuka gets out of the taxi, deciding to walk the rest of the way to Hyotei.

Talking to Atobe is probably the worst idea he's had in a while. He never has had bad ideas. Except this one.

It's afternoon, and the roads are filled with vehicles. The pedestrian walkways are empty, though. No one will brave the road on a summer afternoon.

He takes his regulars jacket off.

And then completely changes his mind about going to Hyotei. Flagging another cab, he gets in and asks to go to the nearest train station.

And this one isn't a bad idea, at all.

* * *

Coach cancelled their practice for the day. Shiraishi now has extra hours to waste. He isn't looking forward to it. He sits in class, but can't focus. His bandages itch. He's hot, and sweaty.

He wishes he was with Keigo right now.

He wishes he was Ryoma.

He wants to play tennis.

He hates school right now. It makes him nauseous. It makes his windpipe constrict and his brain distracted and now there's a song stuck in his mind oh you're in my veins and I cannot get you out oh you're all I taste at night inside my mouth oh you run away 'cause I am not what you found oh you're in my veins and I cannot get you out everything will change nothing stays the same and nobody here's perfect but everyone's to blame

everyone's to blame

Shut up.

Shut up

Stop.

The bell rings, signalling the end of yet another school day. Shiraishi is one of the last to leave.

He is dreading going home early. He doesn't want to have free time.

He wants to see them.

Keigo's so beautiful. He isn't graceful at all when he sleeps. He takes up almost all of the bed and kicks Shiraishi and Ryoma over the edge in his sleep, he sleeps spread-eagled, he sometimes drools into the pillow, and Ryoma makes so much fun of him in the morning when he kisses Shiraishi without brushing his teeth and asks about his choice of beverage, he's so beautiful.

He walks around town for an hour but ends up returning to school, for the tennis courts. He can't leave them alone.

"Shiraishi."

Shiraishi snaps out of his daydreams to see Tezuka, right in front of him.

* * *

"What are you even doing in Osaka?"

"I left practice halfway for some reasons, and then thought about coming to see you," Tezuka says. Shiraishi shakes his head. "You're the Seigaku captain, and you're setting a bad example."

"Maybe."

"Our practice was cancelled today. Good thing I came back here."

Tezuka doesn't say anything. Shiraishi thinks about how silent he is. Tezuka never speaks more than necessary. He's there -

"I wanted to talk to Atobe, but he probably doesn't want to see me."

Shiraishi dejectedly looks at Tezuka.

His bedroom is plain. It isn't much. He also hasn't used it in a while, and that's pretty clear. The walls are bare. Kaburiel moves an inch.

"They won't take me back, though. They'll never."

"They're at fault."

"How?"

"I'm not going to sit and repeat everything they did wrong just so you can feel better about yourself."

Shiraishi grabs a hand and pulls Tezuka onto the bed with him, lying down. "I know," he says. "I know."

They take up their sleeping positions - big spoon Tezuka, little spoon Shiraishi. Little Spoon takes Big Spoon's hands from behind him and brings them over himself.

They're a bird and a cage. The bird doesn't want to leave the cage.

Tezuka doesn't caress him or press kisses to the back of his neck because they're not lovers.

They go to sleep, smelling of sweat and exhaustion, and when Tezuka wakes up, it's nearing eight in the evening. Shiraishi introduces him to his parents, who weren't home in the afternoon, and then accompanies him to the train station. "I'll come with you," he says. "My parents won't mind. I'll take a half-day at school tomorrow." Tezuka lets him come.

They stand on the platform, hands tucked in each others' jacket pockets, kissing till the train arrives. People around them either stare or don't care. Shiraishi kisses with his eyes open. This kiss doesn't have any emotion in it. Nothing they've done has had genuine love in it. It's just that kissing is comforting, because it reminds Shiraishi of warm mornings with Ryoma on his lap. Shiraishi feels like an asshole. Tezuka feels like he's even more of an asshole.

* * *

They go to the bookstore where this all started.

Shiraishi picks up a newer edition of the same book he bought months and months ago. Time passes by so slowly, and so quickly. Can't it just stop? Does Shiraishi need to travel at a speed faster than the speed of light, just so he can make time turn back?

One o'clock in the morning finds Tezuka and Shiraishi walking in the middle of all the empty roads. Unconsciously, Shiraishi is leading them to his old house.

"I'm sorry," Shiraishi tells Tezuka.

It's the first apology he's made for this entire fuck-up. It's only right that Tezuka hears it before anyone else.

"I dragged you into this. I shouldn't have involved you. I shouldn't have. I shouldn't have done this."

"It's okay. I'm all right. Just worry about yourself." Tezuka draws Shiraishi closer to him with an arm.

And they're there. The place where Keigo and Ryoma live. Shiraishi is almost shocked to see the house. He doesn't see any drastic changes. He doesn't see any difference in the house he left so many months ago. It almost makes his heart stop.

"Show me you've moved on," he says to himself. "Show me you've moved on so I can stop hoping you'll take me back one day, make me stop being so selfish, make me stop."

Tezuka hears him. So he goes and rings the doorbell.

Shiraishi looks at him, panicked. "What the fuck did you do? What the fuck?"

"Say those words to them." Tezuka leads him to the front door. They wait.

Shiraishi's heart, about to stop before, is really, really going to cease beating. The way it's pumping, fast, without rhythm - he feels dizzy. Shit. Tezuka what have you done I wasn't prepared I wasn't -

And then

Ryoma's standing there. Bed head. Dark circles under his eyes and a gaze that promises murder. One hand resting on the door handle. The other hanging limply. It's too dark to see anything else. It's too dark.

"Who are you, and what the fuck do you want at one-thirty in the morning?" he mumbles. Trusting. They could have been serial killers.

Tezuka flips on the porch light. The switch was just there, waiting for him. They all blink at the flare of brightness. And then Ryoma sees the people in front of him. A second of silence.

And then he slams the door closed, and locks it.

* * *

Shiraishi breathe

he can't breathe he can't lie on his side and think about sunshine and fresh air

he can't rock backwards and forwards and cry and he can't

hold himself and breathe help him breathe please he can't move he wants to throw up but he can't salty water is filling his mouth but he can't swallow it comes out of his mouth is he shaking he can't feel it his vision is shaking he wants to throw up he can hear retching sounds his own retching sounds but his throat is closing up

Tezuka his chest hurts he's going to die Tezuka Tezuka Tezuka

Arms around him. Holding him tight. Get them off. Get away. He can't breathe. Breathe he can't can't breathe his lungs won't work his heart is going to stop please Tezuka he's losing it he's losing control Tezuka Tezuka he's dying he'll never move again chills are running up his arms

stop somebody make it stop make him close his eyes

he's going to die please, please, he can't breathe he -


	6. Chapter 6

It takes ten minutes for Shiraishi to calm down. Tezuka counts. It's the only mildly useful thing he can do.

* * *

He tries, he tries to breathe, breathe deeply, in and out, in and out. It isn't real. It's gone. It's stopped.

He almost vomited.

He feels dizzy.

He's not going to faint. He's not going to faint.

He closes his eyes.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He knows Tezuka's beside him. Tezuka's there. Keeping his hands to himself because Shiraishi flung them off earlier.

The porch light is off.

Better.

His head is pounding.

His head is pounding so hard.

* * *

Tezuka manages to get Shiraishi to stand up. Shiraishi can't do it by himself. He leans on Tezuka.

"We're going home, now," Tezuka says firmly. Shiraishi can feel the warmth of safety. Tezuka's grip on him feels like the safest anchor in the world. It won't break off.

Somehow, _somehow,_ they manage to make it to Tezuka's apartment. Their legs hurt so much. No cabs at three am. Shiraishi breathes shallowly in the elevator ride to the top of the sky.

He collapses when they get past the front door. Tezuka picks him up, sets him down in the living room. Three in the morning. Only light on in the entire apartment complex. The only star for miles around.

Tezuka has a nice, spacious home. It's great that he can pay for it. How is he paying for it? A bookstore cashier doesn't have the best benefits. Independence in the way he lives life, but financed by his parents. Shiraishi isn't surprised. At least they're only paying for a home and a school. Tezuka probably manages everything else on the small income he gets from the bookstore. He's economical like that. Practical.

Shiraishi watches, as Tezuka comes back with a bucket of water, and a cloth.

"Can you take off your clothes?" he asks, looking straight into Shiraishi's eyes. It gives him a little strength.

"Can, but it depends on how badly you want to fuck."

Tezuka snorts lightly. Shiraishi takes his shirt off. Tezuka wets the cloth and wipes the sweat and stickiness off Shiraishi's body. Shiraishi wants to apologize.

"I'm sorry, Kunimitsu."

Tezuka stills when he hears his first name. "What for?"

"Whatever just happened. The... the panic attack."

Tezuka resumes wiping him down. Shiraishi's too weak to move. "Don't. You can't scare me away. And you've already apologized once. _I'm_ sorry. I couldn't help."

Shiraishi hangs his head. It's pounding. "My head aches," he says. "My head aches."

Tezuka says, "I'll bring you some medicine."

He stays true to his word, feeds Shiraishi the medicine, and then takes his pants off.

Shiraishi laughs. "Why are you so dedicated in doing this?"

"It needs to be done."

"You're so beautiful."

Tezuka doesn't skip a beat as he replies, "You're like your tennis."

Shiraishi takes a second to absorb the joke Tezuka just made. And then he can't stop hitting Tezuka, loud in his laughter, playful in his touches, everything is glowing, and he's laughing again.

He isn't thinking about Ryoma at all. He isn't thinking about Keigo. He isn't thinking about either of them, and the only person who matters is in front of him and his name is Tezuka Kunimitsu.

He'll move on. He'll move on.

* * *

Tezuka can only wonder how Ryoma didn't hear the sounds of Shiraishi falling to the floor and saying his name, and crying and telling him he's going to die.

* * *

They're in bed, and Tezuka forms his cage around Shiraishi again, Shiraishi once again becomes the bird who doesn't want to fly away.

He feels lips on his neck.

He intertwines his fingers with the ones resting on his stomach.

"We'll skip school tomorrow," he hears.

"Setting terrible examples as club captains," Shiraishi says softly.

"Finals are soon. We have the right to stay home and study."

"Are you making up excuses to spend time with me?"

Another kiss to his neck answers that question. Shiraishi feels dread pooling in the pit of his stomach.

_please don't fall in love with me_

But he turns, instead, so now he's facing Tezuka. And kisses him. It's a kiss without tongues. Simple. Maybe sweet.

Tezuka's breathing lulls him to sleep. Maybe all of this was just a bad dream.

* * *

He wakes up, and it _is_ a nightmare.

He wants Keigo's kiss and the coffee question. He wants Ryoma's rude laughter. He wants to wake up on the floor with Keigo's leg dangling over the edge of the bed and Ryoma's hair smothering him. He wants them. He wants them. Then he remembers how the door sounded when it was slammed closed. It wasn't a final-sounding thud. It wasn't anything. It was just a sound but it broke him.

He takes a deep breath, breathes in Tezuka's smell.

It relaxes him.

"Good morning," Tezuka says.

"I guess I woke you up," Shiraishi says. He needs to re-bandage his arm.

"It's okay. We can always go back to sleep."

Shiraishi sits up. He's not weak. He's not ill. He's strong. No one can say otherwise. "Do you have bandages?"

Tezuka nods. He's even more beautiful without the glasses. Shiraishi leans down to kiss him.

A few minutes later he ends up pulling off Tezuka's boxer briefs, and his own.

Kuranosuke slowly, teasingly fucks Kunimitsu, who can only bite his lips and gasp. Tezuka's hands are on the back of his knees, bringing them to his chest, and Shiraishi simply props his elbows on either side of Tezuka's body, drawing his groans into his mouth as he thrusts into Tezuka.

They fall back asleep for ten minutes, before Shiraishi wakes Tezuka up again to lick his come out of him. He tries not to think about Atobe. He fails, but Tezuka comes quick enough for him to go on to use his tongue to lap it up, too, taking in all of it, all thoughts of Atobe gone.

Tezuka leaves hickeys on Shiraishi's back in the shower.

In the kitchen, Tezuka curls his fingers around Shiraishi's cock and strokes fast, as Shiraishi _tries _to make omelettes.

He stops before Shiraishi comes.

Playing footsie under the table like infatuated children while eating burnt omelettes - it's so silly but Shiraishi laughs for the second time in six hours.

Dawn broke a while ago, and morning stares them in the face as not three seconds after washing their hands, Shiraishi pushes Tezuka onto the couch in the living room and rides him as payback for the kitchen thing. Which isn't payback at all, but neither's complaining.

They actually do study for the rest of the day. Both are smart assholes, but Shiraishi's slightly better at Chemistry, and Tezuka's slightly better at World History.

For tennis, they do all their stretching and warming up at home and then walk to the court near the train station they had once gone to.

Shiraishi feels so peaceful. But he feels like he shouldn't be. He doesn't want to be.

It's like he's a broken record. He wants to see Keigo and Ryoma. He wants the person looking back at him to be either of them instead of Tezuka. He's so fucking stupid. He wants to go back.

In time. To them. He still loves them. But every time he thinks of them, Tezuka appears in the picture - all kisses to the back of his neck and lazy mornings.

But - he can't _be_ with him -

* * *

"I know," Tezuka says, while they're kissing in the same alleyway where Shiraishi fucked Atobe three months ago. "I know you won't love me."

Shiraishi tries to deepen the kiss to get Tezuka to shut the fuck up.

"And I can't stop you from going back to them and I can't force you to have feelings towards me."

"Shut up," Shiraishi mumbles into Tezuka's mouth. "Train leaves in two hours. Make the most of it."

So Tezuka pulls away.

"Let's go to the station," he says.

This time, they don't kiss at the platform. They just stand there and breathe.

As Shiraishi boards the train, he says, "I'll see you again." It's not a question. He won't ask because he doesn't want _no_ as an answer.

"Of course."

Shiraishi feels relief. Overwhelming. He doesn't want to know why.

"Kuranosuke?"

"Yeah?"

People are jostling him in their hurry to get in, and Shiraishi has to strain his ears to hear over the noise, but he also can lip-read, and Tezuka is saying -

_that's a beautiful ring you've got on your finger. is it platinum?_


	7. Chapter 7

A week of separation changes things, changes feelings. Shiraishi understands this very soon.

* * *

Shiraishi wonders why people are suddenly taking trips to Osaka.

Seeing Atobe outside his house as he returns from tennis practice is something he wasn't expecting.

He wasn't expecting that he'd cheat on his boyfriends and leave them, either, but shit happens.

"Hey," he says, though. It slips from his mouth easily. He won't break down. He can't give himself that satisfaction. Depression hurts. But it's also addictive. Shiraishi has the claws to tear through the plastic roof and get out.

"Can we talk?"

"You came all the way from Tokyo, do I really have a choice?" Shiraishi laughs.

Atobe doesn't like how artificial that laugh sounds. He says, "No. Let's take a walk."

Shiraishi is tired and all he wants to do is sink into a hot bath, but he walks.

* * *

"Ryoma told me a few days ago that you showed up at our house last week at one am."

Shiraishi nods. "Yeah. I guess. I must have been drunk. I don't know."

He doesn't know if Atobe means two people or three when he says _our._

He's not going to tell him about the attack if he doesn't know. It only gets two reactions from people: pity or irritation. He doesn't want either. Being pitied is the worst. It's when you realize you've finally reached rock bottom, but you have a hammer and chisel in your hands.

And irritation is when they think you're _weak_ for having them. _Be fucking strong, what the hell are you afraid of?_ They know nothing.

"Tezuka was with you."

"Yes. Yes, he was."

"What the fuck were you doing with _him_ at that time of night?"

Shiraishi looks at the road stretching on ahead of them. Maybe they'll get lost.

"Well, he came to visit me here, kind of like you, right now, and then I went with him back to Tokyo, we strolled around, ended up in front of your house, he rang the doorbell to make me say some shit to you, and then Ryoma opened the door and closed it and we went back to his apartment and slept, then woke up and fucked each other around five times. It was amazing. He was actually a virgin before I came along and corrupted him. But he fucks so good."

Shiraishi tells himself to stop provoking the man beside him.

Atobe says nothing. They carry on like this in silence for two minutes before he asks, "What shit was he forcing you to say?"

"Oh, I don't know, basically it was for you to show me you've moved on so I could move on, too."

Atobe stops. Shiraishi walks ahead for some time until he realizes he's left Atobe behind. He turns around to go back.

The look of horror on his face halts him in his tracks.

"You think I could move on?"

* * *

Atobe has to work very hard to not slam Shiraishi against a wall and kiss all traces of Tezuka from him when he hears exactly what they had been doing, but he manages to let his anger out through the tiny drops of blood which seep from the place where his nails are digging into his palm.

But when Shiraishi tells him to show him that he and Ryoma _have_ moved on, he can't help it -

"You think I could move on?"

Shiraishi looks kind of shocked. "Of course."

Just _how _far did his insecurity issues extend?

"How?" He can only spit one word of that question out.

"You and Ryoma love each other more than either of you loved me; I think it'd be easy."

Atobe's fists unclench.

"You - you bastard. We loved you enough to have the strength to _share_ you, we loved you enough to give you everything - of course we love each other, we met first. But it was never what you think - it wasn't that one day, one of us decided he wanted to fuck you, too, and the other had to unwillingly go along with it - no - it was - we both _wanted_ you, we wanted you equally, two halves, fifty percent, two hundred percent - "

"You wanted me, and now you don't. Problem solved. We can go on with our lives."

Shiraishi, you -

* * *

He does want to go back to them. But he can't. Once you phenomenally fuck something up, you have to realize that things can't go back to the way they were, the road behind you has broken down and the road ahead is diving into many paths, one for each choice you'll have to make.

Shiraishi didn't realize it until Atobe asked him how he could move on.

He has to spare them from himself.

It seems like it's a very self-sacrificial idea - very pretentious and it makes them seem like they're in need of saving - but he can't do this to them. The fact that Shiraishi cheated will be the sword over their neck for the rest of their lives if he returns. If Shiraishi doesn't come back, at least they'll heal. Atobe coming to Osaka is proof enough that they're still damaged, even after three months. Just as damaged as him.

This maturity that he's showing is foreign to him. How did he suddenly stop thinking about himself in just a day? Maybe it was when Tezuka told him the platinum ring was beautiful.

His maturity feels so foreign.

He's changed, he thinks. Everyone's changed. So he takes a deep breath -

"I... love Tezuka," he tells Atobe. "I've fallen in love with him."

He's lying. He's never going to love anyone again. Love is bullshit and it makes people jealous, doubtful, insecure and it hurts them and ruins them and takes away everything they have.

It's a _lie_.

But as long as Atobe believes him, everything will be okay.

* * *

Shiraishi's parents are pretty cool about him going to Tokyo, again. It's a good thing, maybe. Shiraishi can hold his own in school. And in tennis. He has his life. He has his rights. He can go wherever he wants. Give him the thousands of yen he needs.

So he sits beside Atobe in the train car.

For the two and a half hours it takes to reach Tokyo from Osaka, he mulls things over. He's being stupid and mature at the same time.

Atobe doesn't talk to him. Occasionally he takes Shiraishi's hand into his own, the one wearing the ring, and caresses it. Shiraishi knows he's crying, and trying not to. Atobe probably has the most dignity out of the four of them. Four. Including Tezuka.

He feels so detached from reality. Is it really happening? He's throwing away any potential of a relationship with him and Ryoma. Again.

He doesn't think he knows what he's doing, but knows he needs to do it.

Stupid, self-sacrificing, pretentious bastard. You're an asshole, Shiraishi, just fucking die already.

They get off the train and walk out of the station together. Still silent. Atobe's calmed down. But the tip of his nose is red. His cheeks are red. His eyes are shining brightly. He won't look up. His lower lip is sucked in.

Shiraishi's love for Atobe overwhelms him for a second, and he has to look away.

"He forgives you," Atobe says as they stand outside in the cool air. "I forgive you."

"Thank you." Shiraishi holds Atobe's hand one last time.

Atobe draws him into a hug. Shiraishi can't pull him in fast enough. There's a very, very slight difference in their heights. Shiraishi's a bit taller.

Last time. He breathes in the way Atobe smells for the last time. He holds Atobe like this for the last time.

He can't _stop_ his tears. But he can stop his sobs. It hurts. Holding them in. It hurts his chest. It pains him. He's holding his breath to stop them. His hands refuse to let go of Atobe. _I love you so much. I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry._

He never really apologized to either of them for betraying them. So he says it out loud. "I'm so sorry, Keigo."

His voice breaks at the first word and on every word after it. Atobe doesn't comment on it.

"Please tell Ryoma I'm sorry, too."

Atobe nods, face buried in Shiraishi's shoulder.

_Tell him I love him._

He's going to die. He needs to pass on this message.

They part ways. Shiraishi doesn't offer to return the ring again. He doesn't want to give it back. He'll keep it forever. They'll bury the ring with him, in the plain white envelope that says _keep it. I don't want it back. He doesn't want it back_.

* * *

He takes a cab to Tezuka's apartment. That's the excuse he gave Atobe to spend a few more hours with him. Might as well keep his word.

Elevator ride to the top of the sky. Feels quiet.

Let the cables break. Let him fall.

Of course, they don't. Shiraishi gets out at Tezuka's floor. Knocks at his door. He waits.

Tezuka opens the door, but he hasn't opened it for him.

Inui Sadaharu steps out of Tezuka's apartment. There's something about his lips that screams _kissed thoroughly_. Tezuka says goodbye to Inui, who says something back to him in German. He must be learning. And then Inui's gone.

Tezuka's gaze falls on him. There's no change in his expression, not really. He knows what Shiraishi saw. He knows Shiraishi never wanted Tezuka to fall for him, anyway. He just knows.

So Shiraishi smiles.

He smiles like a madman. He smiles so hard his jaw hurts. He smiles at Tezuka. "I'm so happy," he says. "I'm so happy for you." His voice is choked with emotion. His face is glowing.

He just smiles.

Tezuka smiles back. Shiraishi smiles wider.

"Do you want to come in?"

Shiraishi shakes his head. "No." He still keeps smiling. "I don't."

He leaves. Inui took the elevator down. So he takes the stairs. He waves goodbye, one last time, to Tezuka, and starts his journey down to hell, smiling all the way.


	8. Chapter 8

_It's been three whole days since I've had sleep  
Because I dream of his lips on your cheek_

* * *

In his room, Atobe lies on his bed, leaning against the headrest as Ryoma sits beside him and reads a magazine. He hasn't asked Atobe how the trip went yet. Atobe's eyes kind of spoil the ending, anyway.

"He's in love with Tezuka," Keigo says, after ten minutes of emptiness.

"He's in for a shock, then," Ryoma says. He doesn't look up from the magazine. He's cried enough in front of Keigo. "Tezuka-buchou asked Inui-senpai out a week ago. Senpai accepted."

Atobe coughs. "You're back to calling him Buchou?"

"He's not anywhere near Kanpeki now. I have no reason to not respect him."

"Look at you, Mr. Practical."

"I wasn't practical when I shut the door on him."

"They had sex the morning after."

"Meaning that morning."

"How are you not bothered by it anymore?"

The question's useless. Ryoma is more bothered than anyone else about it. But he's done wearing his heart on his sleeve. Keigo knows that, but he still gets surprised.

So Ryoma just shrugs and hums. Default response.

"He's not coming back, you know."

Ryoma doesn't stop flipping through the mag. "He'll come back."

"He won't come back. Not even after he finds about Inui." Keigo's hands fly to his face. He wants to tear his face off. Rip off the skin. It'll hurt less than his heartbreak.

"He'll come back," Ryoma stubbornly repeats. Keigo says, "Do you _enjoy_ living in your dreams?"

Ryoma looks at Keigo. "It's not a dream."

Keigo snaps. But he won't shout at Ryoma. So he leaves the room instead.

* * *

_I feel so much better now that you're gone forever_

_I tell myself that I don't miss you at all_

* * *

Shiraishi rues the days Hikaru Zaizen decides to play the _What's Bothering The Captain _game.

"Everything's fine," he insists. But Zaizen can be a perceptive fuck sometimes. "You've been skipping school. And you don't laugh anymore. That's practically a crime in Shitenhouji."

"You'd know, Hikaru."

"Don't change the topic, Buchou. Something's off. You've been out of it lately."

Shiraishi notices the quiet anger in his quiet successor. Also the worry.

"I don't know," he says, running his bandaged hand through his hair. "I'm having troubles."

"What kind?"

"Why do you want to help me so much?"

Zaizen looks away. "Helping a senpai. What's so fucking wrong about that?"

"Watch your language, Hikaru."

Although he's probably used filthier words in everyday conversations that take place on beds and in showers. He's set enough of a bad example. Now he needs to be good.

"Yeah. Sure. What kind of troubles?"

Shiraishi doesn't want to answer him. He doesn't want to saddle Zaizen with the kind of shit he's gone through. But Zaizen's insistence is giving him no choice. Okay. He asked for it.

"I had two boyfriends. They used to leave me out of shit. So I accidentally went and fucked Seigaku's captain. It got all fucked up from there. I left the two boyfriends. Seigaku's captain also has someone now. Basically I'm single. The trouble is, I still love Atobe and Echizen and I feel guilty as fuck for taking Tezuka's firsts. I can't go to any of them, now."

Zaizen only says, "Watch your language, Buchou."

This fucking sassy brat.

"Hey, I have an idea to get your mind off things."

Shiraishi asks his question with an eyebrow raise. He's mentally exhausted. Zaizen says, "Let's go get you piercings, Shiraishi."

"Helping me with my problems makes me your equal now, does it?"

"Sure."

* * *

They go after practice. Zaizen's very, very eager to help him. Shiraishi wonders why.

"Ear piercings like me. They'll look good on you. Trust me."

Shiraishi can only be swept up in Zaizen's tidal wave.

He goes and gets six piercings on his left ear. Zaizen's left congratulating him by the time they come out of the tattoo/piercings parlour. "You look so fucking cool, Buchou. No joke."

"Ah, ecstasy," Shiraishi says with a wry smile. "I live to look cool. My ear fucking hurts."

Zaizen smirks. "Totally. So, in celebration, let's go to a bar."

"Maybe we can change out of our uniforms first."

He can't say no anymore. What's the point? He doesn't have anything to go back to.

They go to some club. It's crowded. Shiraishi makes a beeline for the alcohol counter. Zaizen follows. "Let's dance!"

"I can't dance, Zaizen."

"Yes, you can. Come on."

"I can't."

"We're here _for_ the dancing."

"I'm here for the drinking."

"_Shiraishi._" Zaizen takes his hand.

And that's when he gets it. The reason Hikaru's so invested in his 'recovery'.

It's clear in the way he looks at him. This warm, soft look that Hikaru's giving him. His unforgiving gaze which softens when he looks at Shiraishi. An arrogant asshole with a crush.

No.

Nope.

He's not having any of it. He's not going to fuck someone else up. He's not going to lead someone on, and he's not going to break another person like he broke Atobe and Echizen and Tezuka.

He wrenches his hand out of Zaizen's grasp and says nothing as he pushes through the crowd of people and exits the place. Walking furiously, he wonders why he didn't see this before. It must have been really obvious to everyone else. Zaizen wasn't really hiding it.

He's alone when he's walking, and then suddenly he's not.

"What's the big deal, _Buchou? _Why'd you fucking leave?" Zaizen grabs his arms and stalls him.

Shiraishi's about ten centimetres taller. And kind of stronger. He can get Zaizen's hands off him. So he does. "I'm not entertaining your puppy crush, Zaizen."

"Wha - the fuck, Shiraishi?"

Shiraishi resumes striding, but he can hear Zaizen saying, "It's not a crush. I'm in love with you."

He tries to ignore the dramatic potential of the moment and resists going back to him and fitting his mouth over Zaizen's lips. He's weak like that, he'd actually do it.

"Just give me a goddamn chance!" Zaizen yells angrily when Shiraishi's far away.

No.

But he ends up doing it. He's a fuck-up. He's a twisted fuck-up.

* * *

_You're a doll you are flawless_

_But I just can't wait for love to destroy us_

* * *

Zaizen ends up confronting Shiraishi thrice more before he manages to kiss him, and it's heartbreaking because Shiraishi won't move his lips against Zaizen's, he won't move his arms and wrap them around Zaizen.

Zaizen kisses carefully. Completely opposite to Ryoma. Zaizen likes slow, deep kisses where there's no room for frenzy and desperation, and he holds Shiraishi tight, because Shirashi's not a fragile object, he's not delicate and frail, he's tough as fuck and sharper than knives - no one else sees it.

They do, but not from Zaizen's viewpoint.

"At least fucking kiss me," he begs of Shiraishi, who can only keep his eyes averted and say nothing. Because he can't say _I'm no good for you _or _You're better off without me _without sounding like the pretentious, self-sacrificing, selfish jackass he doesn't want to be. But that's the truth. Zaizen will find someone else. Zaizen will find someone else who's much better than Shiraishi, and there's no dearth of those kind of people. He doesn't want to be anyone's anchor. He doesn't want to keep anyone safe. Fire can't keep anything safe. Except itself.

"You pick the worst times to be mature, did you know that?" Zaizen punctuates this sentence with a kiss, biting Shiraishi's lower lip and dragging it between his teeth.

"I love you, Buchou, and I'm staying. You might love someone else your entire_ life, _but I am not about to leave. I'm here. Love them, but fuck me. Think about them, but blow _me._ Send letters to them, leave hickeys on me."

Shiraishi pushes Zaizen away. "Why the fuck would I even put you through that?"

Zaizen looks at him and gives him the kind of smile Shiraishi showed to Tezuka the other day.

"Because I'd rather have you like that than not fucking have you at all."

Shiraishi is stunned.

Love is stupid. Love forces people to do stupid things. Love is destructive. Oh, Zaizen. Hikaru. _Hikaru._

Shiraishi gives in.

* * *

Zaizen isn't innocent, even if he looks like he is. By no means, if the way his lips are running over Shiraishi's cock is any indication. Shiraishi wants to cry. Isn't this unfair? But he's too aroused to cry. Zaizen looks pretty with his mouth closed around Shiraishi's erection, sucking in earnest. Shiraishi cards his fingers through Zaizen's fine hair. The blush on Zaizen's cheeks isn't helping his case.

Zaizen hums in pleasure at feeling Shiraishi's fingers on his scalp. Shiraishi almost goes crazy.

Why is he doing this?

Shiraishi you're such a fuck-up, just grab a lighter and start burning everything down you're the accelerant; blaze it

Obscene sounds fill the room, and Hikaru is doing nothing to quieten the way he breathes in and sucks the head shallowly, leaves loud kisses all over Shiraishi's hot cock, wet with Hikaru's spit and his own precome, goes so deep he chokes, because Hikaru doesn't care how _he _looks, doesn't care how much his jaw hurts as long as he gets to lick Shiraishi's dick like this because he's a sarcastic, mocking asshole who _loves_ his captain enough to want him to _use him_ like a fucking toy. Shiraishi places his hands under Hikaru's jaw and strokes the corners with his thumb. He flicks Hikaru's ear, where the piercings are. Fragments of thoughts of his own piercings float through his mind. He looks rad as fuck. Getting piercings did help after all; he's smiling, genuinely, more.

Hikaru leans back. Shiraishi is mildly outraged. But he won't say anything. Hikaru's going to make his own mistakes. He's doing this of his own volition.

"Will you fuck me now?" Zaizen asks, staring at him with his almost-expressionless eyes, voice hoarse, moving reddened lips to form his words.

Shiraishi says no.

Zaizen's expression twists into hopeless, helpless anger - but Shiraishi says, "You can fuck me instead."

* * *

It's not Zaizen's first time having sex.

Shiraishi gets it. From the way he rolls his hips against Shiraishi's and stares at him through eyes that are half-lidded but not on purpose - he's actually as hard as him, as intoxicated. From the confidence with which he takes Shiraishi's legs and hooks them over his shoulders.

Shiraishi won't pry into Zaizen's past, because Zaizen isn't prying into Shiraishi's past.

Zaizen takes his own cock into his hand. Shiraishi cranes his neck to watch. He doesn't know what to say. Zaizen is beautiful. Everyone he's ever loved has been beautiful. Inside.

Hikaru strokes himself for a bit, using some lube he took from his drawer - he bites his lip and frowns - it _looks_ like he's frowing - then he catches Shiraishi's eye and gives him such a _sensual_ smile that all the breath in Shiraishi's lungs is knocked out and he slams his head back into the pillow.

"Buchou..." Zaizen whispers. "Look at me."

So Shiraishi cranes his neck again.

The feeling of two fingers entering him is almost too much to bear. It doesn't hurt too much - Shiraishi's used to it - it's the fingers he isn't used to. Zaizen's fingers. He's so fucking calm about this. Just how much practice has he had?

"I used to finger myself, thinking about you," Zaizen casually tells him. Mind-reader. "Till yesterday."

Shiraishi swallows hard when he hears this.

"Kenya and I used to mess around a lot. Friends. With benefits. He knew about you. Me being in love with you - and stuff." Zaizen curls his fingers. Shiraishi clenches the sheets.

"It's okay, though. No complicated feelings there. He's completely fallen for Chitose-senpai, anyway. Was all frustration relief." Zaizen smirks. Shiraishi wonders how he knows so little about his team.

"That's why I'm so fucking good, and you _know_ that," Zaizen breathes, taking the fingers out.

Shiraishi only tells him to get a move on.

Hikaru, in retaliation, reaches for his stereo remote and switches it on. The first song that plays is an English one.

And then Zaizen fucks him in rhythm with the beat of _I Wanna Be Yours. _Slow. Hard. Deep. Shiraishi almost loses his mind.

They're both a mess by the time the song finishes. And then they do it again. Shiraishi starts to hope.

* * *

_Secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought_

_Maybe I just wanna be yours_

* * *

Shiraishi gets a phone call from Ryoma one day.

"Hey, Echizen."

"Kanpeki."

Shiraishi's heart skips a beat. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Come back."

Shiraishi closes his eyes. "I can't. I can't."

"I love you. I love you, so very much - please - "

"Ryoma, I'm so sorry."

He can't hear Ryoma crying.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. We left you out of _everything _and we excluded you and I know I did and I'm so sorry, Kanpeki, please, I love you so much, please come back - please, please."

"I thought Keigo told you I wouldn't."

"Yeah, but Tezuka-buchou has Inui-senpai now, and so you can't be with him, right? And I _know_ you still love us - come back. We don't blame you for cheating. It was our fault. It was my fault."

"_No._" Letting Ryoma take the blame is the last thing Shiraishi's going to do. No one takes the blame in this except Shiraishi. It wasn't their fault. It's his fucking insecurity problems.

"But it's okay. We forgive you. Please just come back."

"It's - it's not so simple, darling."

There's silence on Ryoma's end. Then a single word. "Please."

"I won't."

Firm words. Hard as diamond. Somebody's resolve has to break. It can't be Shiraishi's. Not anymore.

Ryoma hangs up. Shiraishi feels like screaming.

It's really not that simple. Shiraishi can't go back. He can't put the reasons into words. All he feels when he thinks about the two of them is guilt. And worry.

And love.

But love is stupid and destructive.

* * *

Shitenhouji travels to Tokyo for the quarterfinals of a side tournament. All the big schools are participating. He can expect to see everyone there.

On the bus, he and Zaizen sit together, listening to English indie bands on Hikaru's iPod and sharing one set of earphones, much to Koharu and Yuuji's amusement.

They also occasionally kiss. With Kenya and Kintarou's catcalling as background music. This fucking team of his.

Shiraishi really hopes his hope will last.

* * *

Atobe smiles at him when their teams cross paths. Shiraishi smiles back. They have nothing to say to each other anymore. They only talk through tennis now.

Atobe looks at Shiraishi's piercings. And then Zaizen's. Then he looks away, smile turning acerbic.

* * *

They don't meet Seigaku at all. Different block. Different timings. They'll meet in the semifinals. If they meet in the semifinals at all. Shiraishi wants to see Echizen and Tezuka happy. He's kind of sad about it.

"I'm kinda fucking glad, though." Zaizen says. _Fucking_ mind-reader.

"For what?"

"You leaving them. I wouldn't have gotten you otherwise. I'm so lucky, Buchou."

Shiraishi curls an arm around the shorter man's shoulders.

"I'm also kinda fucking glad."

"For what?"

"You're shorter than me."

Zaizen makes a face. Too respectful to punch Shiraishi, his captain. So he winds his arm around Shiraishi's waist. "What the fuck ever who cares I'm not even as short as that fucking Seigaku brat you're just freakishly tall - "

Shiraishi laughs, and pulls him closer.

Sunlight falls on them - their evidence of a romantic happy ending - and glints brightly off something on Shiraishi's hand.

A platinum ring.


End file.
